Horror of the Worst Kind
by KERNTKitty
Summary: Elrohir finds out what slacking on his chores can cause. Includes rotting stew, painful stenches, and elbow grease. Based on my actual experience! 2-shot: COMPLETE!
1. The Painful Beginning

**Believe me, the title fits. That is all I have to say except: R&R!**

It was a peaceful evening in Imladris, and Lord Elrond and his family were just sitting down to dinner. Celebrían was setting out the dishes, Elrond was waiting in a dignified, stately manner, Estel was contemplating how to tell an Elf-maiden how positively glorious her hair was (A/N: Arwen is still with Galadriel, Estel is not cheating on her!), and Elrohir and Elladan were eyeing the food impatiently. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity to the adolescent elven princes, Celebrían set the last plate down and took her place just to Elrond's right. Elladan looked at her eagerly, and she laughed softly, waving a permitting hand towards the food. Immediately the twins pounced forward, clutching at the dishes and laying claim to one or another.

Elrond raised a condemning eyebrow, but Celebrían just laughed and lay a calming hand on his arm. He smiled and shook his head. After the boys, including little Estel, had served themselves, Elrond and Celebrían took their own share. After a moment, Celebrían rose to fetch something from the kitchen that she had forgotten. In a short time, a shriek was heard from that direction. Just as Elrond leapt from his seat to see what harm had befallen his lovely wife, she appeared in the doorway, looking more than a bit grey. "Whose duty was it," she queried shakily, "to clean out the cooler this past week?"

Estel and Elladan pointed instantly to Elrohir. Celebrían turned with raised eyebrows to stare at said elven prince. "Elrohir?"

"...Yes, Naneth?" He asked brightly, but with a sinking feeling in his stomach.

"Would you, while cleaning out the cooler, happen to have missed the lentil stew I made over a month ago?" Elrohir felt sick already.

"I...might have, Naneth." Celebrían nodded.

"Well, It is waiting for you next to the washbasin. I expect that it wil be cleaned out thoroughly, and that the clay jar will be returned- clean!- to its place in the cabinet. Understand?"

Elrohir nodded weakly."Yes, Naneth." Elladan and Estel snickered. Elrohir shot them death glares. They stopped.

**20 Minutes Later**

Elrohir walked gingerly towards the big clay jar on the counter. He looked pleadingly at his mother. "Naneth, may I pay Estel to do it for me?"

At the same time as Celebrían shook her head firmly, Estel's little voice piped up, "Sorry, El. You don't have enough money for what that is worth." Elrohir groaned and warily lifted the jar into the washbasin.

"Can I just dump it outside, then?" Another headshake from the elven Lady.

"The animals would get to it. Do it, Elrohir." He grimaced and pulled his robe over his face like a mask, pinching his nose through the cloth. Squinting, he leaned away and half-turned his head, then carefully lifted the lid a fraction of an inch.

Immediately he let it fall shut with a clatter and stumbled around the kitchen, groaning and moaning as if in pain. If he couldn't get out of it, he was going to do it with all the theatrics he could manage. "Oh! Oh, Naneth, for the good of all Arda, let us dig a pit and cast it in, never to let it be seen again! It will poison us!"

Estel had gotten a whiff of the stench that had escaped through the lid, and he pinched his nose too, then walked out of the kitchen. "Ugh! He is right. Why don't we bury it? The whole valley will smell of it by the time he's done!" Celebrían just smiled grimly and looked at Elrohir, pointing with a commanding finger at the jar. Elrohir, ever obedient, walked back over to it, very uneasily. As quickly as he could, he cast the lid off- careful not to break it- and turned the jar upside-down into the washbasin. Celebrían, at the other end of the kitchen, covered her nose and quickly left the room, leaving Elrohir alone with the unspeakable stench.

Elrohir's face was contorted into a grimace of disgust as he rinsed the jar with only a washcloth to shield his hands. He fought down the sick feeling in his stomach and scrubbed the inside of the jar, then set it to the side and carried the washbasin outside, emptying the queasily colored water at the foot of a tree nearby. Maybe the bacteria would help the tree grow. Then he refilled the washbasin from the stream and lugged it back inside, ready if not willing to begin the next phase of the chore: sanitization.

**As I said, almost completely a real-life experienceand yes, I was Elrohir. It was torture. The next chapter should be up shortly, as soon as I figure out how to fit antibacterial soap, Brillo pads, and bakingsoda into Middle-earth.**


	2. The Deathly Conclusion

**Avalon Estel: Oh yes,definitely AU. Somehow I don't think this would work without it being AU. Congrats, you got first reviewer!**

**The7bells: Wow, you have a weak stomach. I am proud to say I did not get sick doing this.Actually the last time I got sick was from the smell of formaldahyde when dissecting... never mind.**

**Haldir's Heart and Soul: Thanks!**

**steelelf: Wow! I got a favorites! Me happy. Glad you enjoyed, and I managed to fit the stuff in without extensive research. :)**

**45 Minutes Later**

Elrohir threw down the washcloth in disgust, working his temple with a wet hand. He had tried _everything_! He had scrubbed the jar as hard as his Elven muscles allowed, worked at it with scalding water, and washed it with a strange concoction that had been a gift from Gandalf, that the old wizard called "antibacterial soap." Odd, but it often worked. This time, however, boiling water and wizard's magic had come to no avail. The jar still stank.

Celebrían walked back in, now that the smell had cleared somewhat. At least, it was no longer a suffocating fog. "How is it coming, Elrohir?" Elrohir looked up at her with a sarcastic grin and a glaringly fake laugh.

"Absolutely wonderful, Naneth! Not a problem with getting the smell out of this at all. It has come completely clean already. I am only sitting her scrubbing at it because I am bored and have no other things to do." He dropped the grin and put his head between his knees, groaning in despair. "It's hopeless!" Celebrían frowned, taking the jar from the washbasin.

"Now, Elrohir, it can't possibly be as horrible as all that. Here, see-" She leaned forward and sniffed at the jar, then reeled back with a look of shock. She placed the jar firmly back in front of Elrohir with a disconcerted laugh. "I was wrong. It is that horrible. Get back to it." Elrohir groaned.

"Have pity on a dying Elfling, Naneth, please! I beg you!" She shook her head and exited the room again. A moment later she was back, with a small wooden box only slightly bigger than her hand.

"Here, try this. It's something I use for baking, but it's also a good remedy for getting the smell out of things. With that, though, I do not know." Elrohir took it from her and and opened it, unfastening the small clasp and lifting the lid cautiously. Inside was a white powder that looked a bit like salt.

"Ah... Naneth, what do you expect me to do with this? If you're going to give me something like this- which I thank you immensely for- at least tell me how to use it!" Celebrían smiled.

"Just fill the jar again and put some of that in it. Don't go using it all, now. Baking soda is very useful for more than just destinking jars, so I'll need it. But that and a little elbow grease should help." Elrohir rolled his eyes. He was growing immensely tired of the words "elbow grease." But he did as he was told, filling the jar with hot water and mixing the water with the powder. Then he went back to scrubbing it. His arms were killing him, but his mother's watchful eyes- both the ones in her sockets and the ones she seemed to have on the back of her head- kept him from stopping even for a moment.

Later, after a long time scrubbing at the jar, Elrohir emptied the milky-white water out of the jar and performed a hesitant sniff test. He nearly screamed. The smell still lingered. Celebrían, seeing his expression, stuck her head out the door of the kitchen. "Elrond, _meleth-nín_, would you come here?" Elrohir began to be frightened. What was she going to do to him? Or have his father do to him? Elrond walked in and smiled in amusement at his son. "Elrond, Elrohir needs some help with this. Do you have any advice?" Elrond considered.

"Wait just a moment, I will be back. I believe I have something that could help." Within moments he was back, carrying a small dark object. He handed it to Elrohir and waited for a reaction.

Elrohir curled up his lip. "Uh, Ada, what _is_ this? It feels like- like metal or something." Elrond nodded.

"It is. Or rather, a blend of fine steel wires twisted together, along with quite a few other things that help it to achieve an overall rough quality that makes it perfect for scrubbing. Far superior to a simple cloth." Elrond always seemed to be a bit too proper about the simplest things.

"So... it's a scrubber? _Hannon_ _le_, Ada. Let's see if it works." He went to work scrubbing, sure that, if his father suggested it, it would work.

**Half an hour later**

He was wrong. That was all there was to it. Elrond's remedy did not work, not in combination with Gandalf's concoction, his mother's baking soda, and scalding water. It was completely and totally hopeless. The smell was a bit less, but not by much. His arms ached, his head hurt from the smell, his fingers were wrinkling from the water, and he was sick and tired of scrubbing. He set the jar down in disgust and walked out to where his father and mother sat reading. "Ada, Naneth?" They looked up, amusement flickering on both their faces. "I cannot do it. Help me, please! I'm going to collapse if I have to deal with it a moment longer. It's better, but..." Celebrían nodded.

"Very well. For tonight, you may go to bed. Put water and some of Gandalf's formula into the jar and let it sit overnight. Tomorrow, though, do not expect me to let it slip from my mind. Goodnight, _ion nín._" After saying goodnight to his father and mother, Elrohir completed the instructions his mother had given him and went to bed. He hoped frantically that for once his mother's Elven memory would fail, or she would have a strange bout of mercy. If not, it would be a dreary, miserable week.

**Yeah, that's it! I was allowed to let it go through the dishwasher, but I had a hard enough time fitting Brillo pads and all that in without figuring out a dishwasher, too. So, yeah. Whatcha think? There are three simple steps:**

**1) Click "Submit Review"  
2) Type "I loved it!" or alternately, "I hated it!"  
3) Submit Review**

**Simple, eh?**


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